That Ten Thousand Year Old Stick
by Artifuss
Summary: When majors get curious anything can happen. Slash, McKay-Beckett, Sheppard
1. part I MckayBeckett

Title: That Ten Thousand Year Old Stick  
Author: Artifuss  
Rating: NC17  
Pairing: McKay/Beckett  
Spoilers: Hide and Seek  
Category: Area52 Challenge (#188).  
Summary: When majors get curious anything can happen.  
Author's notes: Much thanks and muffins to Rauhnee for the beta.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just my imagination. The characters of this story belong to those who own the rights to Stargate: Atlantis. Please don't sue, no money was ever exchanged.

* * *

"I've got a question for you." John said, while walking into Rodney's office. Something had been bugging him for a while now, and he figured that Rodney of all people would know, since he was the resident genius and all.  
  
"Okay, Major." Rodney swiveled his chair around from his workstation, his attention now focused on John. "What's been bothering you?"  
  
"These dead plants," John explained, while placing said plant on Rodney's table, "Dr. Weir said they were ten thousand years old."  
  
"Yes, I see how that can be confusing." He remarked, while glaring at the stick that was a bit too close to his diagnostic equipment for his liking.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"No."  
  
"They're ten thousand years old." Surely he wasn't the only one that was bothered about this.  
  
"And, what? The fact that they're so much older than you is intimidating?" Rodney was baffled about what John was trying to ask. He didn't have the time to be baffled, and was hoping with all hope that the major would finally just get to the point.  
  
"Well," he began, "shouldn't ten thousand year old plants be ten thousand year old dust?"  
  
"Um. What?" Apparently John had different plans then just getting to the point.  
  
"They're dead right? Shouldn't being dead have turned them to specks of dust already?"  
  
"Major."  
  
"Yes, Doctor?" John had learned quickly that formality coming from Rodney was good indicator of how annoyed the man was.  
  
"Do I look like a horticulturist to you? I have no idea what dead alien plants should look like after ten thousand years. Why don't you ask Dr. Narayan about it?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Our horticulturist." He frowned at John, as if he should have known this already, "Dr. Rhamid Narayan would be the best person to ask, and I am pretty sure that he's either looking into it right now or already has the answer you're seeking."  
  
"Oh." So, the genius didn't know everything after all. "What does he look like?"  
  
Rodney did not have the time for this, "I'll tell you, what. Next time I see Dr. Narayan, I'll ask him for you." He plastered his best 'I obviously have nothing better to do than to entertain you' smile, hoping that the major would just leave him to his work, "I just have to get this analysis done first."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Recognizing the dismissal, John walked backwards towards the door, "No pressure. I was only curious."  
  
Rodney watched him leave, relenting as John opened the door, "I'll look into it." And he meant what he said, though he really did need to get his work out of the way first.  
  
"Cool. I'll see you around then." And John left him to his study.  
  
Rodney picked the stick up and placed it on a nearby table, where it wasn't in any danger of knocking into any of his equipment. His hand felt sticky when he'd pulled it away. Looking down, he found a syrupy substance along his index and middle finger.  
  
"Great. I bet it would be delicious on pancakes." Rodney mused while rubbing it with his thumb. He eyed the stick while grabbing for a tissue to wipe it off his hand. He just hoped that none of this syrup stuff had dripped onto his equipment.

III

Why was he finding it so hard to concentrate? Until John showed up, Rodney was on a roll. This work was required for tomorrow's meeting on PuddleJumpers 101, and now he was looking at an all-nighter. Not that it would tire him it seemed, since he couldn't keep still, not even his knee-bouncing habit was working. He was frequently out of his chair, and the need to move around was well past the driving him insane mark.  
  
He needed a break. Needed to get out of his office and get whatever it was out of his system. He needed to be able to concentrate, damn it!  
  
Rodney left, without any real plan.

III

Carson was in the midst of completing his report of the day's activities when he heard the infirmary door slide open. Looking towards it, he saw Rodney stride inside. He looked like a man on a mission.  
  
He smiled and turned his full attention to his unexpected visitor, "Is there something I can help you with, Rodney?"  
  
Rodney made a move to speak, but no words came forth. Instead, his eyes widened, and Carson was sure he saw a light bulb shine brightly over the man's head. He strode up to Carson, grabbing his arm, and dragged him away from his work.  
  
"Mind telling me where we're going?" Not that he minded being swept away from the infirmary. It's not like he had any work to do, nor was he required to be available incase an emergency arose. He was sure that Rodney had heard him, even if he made no move to explain himself. Normally, he would see the physicist keeping quiet as a remarkable thing in itself, but right now, it was quite annoying. It was soon obvious though, that they were heading to his office that was located in the back of his ward.

III

Rodney didn't stop until they stood next to the office bed. He turned till he was toe to toe with Carson, and placed both hands on Carson's upper arms. His eyes were fully dilated and Carson couldn't help but notice the slight blush on Rodney's cheeks or the quick short breaths he was emitting. If he didn't know any better...  
  
Rodney finally said one word, "Please," though it came out more as a low breathy noise. He hardly had a moment to register the other man's intentions as he was pulled even closer. One arm moved to wrap around his back, the other hand made its way to the back of his neck, and at some point their lips touched. Shock caused his eyes to open wide as he felt Rodney lick his lips. He pulled back a little, though Rodney did his best to move with him.  
  
"Rodney," he swallowed not knowing the rhyme or reason of what was happening, "what exactly do you want?"  
  
"I need..." It wasn't like Rodney to be at a loss for words, but that was surly the case. The man looked frustrated. With more strength then what Carson would have given him credit for, he pulled Carson's head back in so that their foreheads touched, and with his eyes closed he pressed his groin against him.  
  
"Please." Rodney murmured softly. Notably, he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject as he said, "Please," once more only a little more loudly this time and with a lot more desperation behind it. He had no idea what was going on in the other man's head, but he was more than sure of Rodney needing this.  
  
"Alright, what do you—," but he couldn't get anything more out as Rodney's lips were back on his in full force. And this time, as Rodney's tongue pushed for access, he kept his mouth open, his own tongue pushing back for dominance.  
  
Rodney groaned, wanting more. He did everything he could in an attempt to lift Carson onto the bed, while they were still kissing.  
  
"I'm not sure if we'll both fit," Carson had managed to get out. He could tell though, that the other man wasn't bothered by the idea of both of their large frames on the twin size bed. He maneuvered himself, till it was Rodney that was backed up against the bed.  
  
"Climb on up. I'll be right back." But Rodney didn't want that, the forceful grip on Carson's arm increasing. Carson made sure that their eyes locked as he said, "I promise." The intent was there, and in moments Rodney's grip lessened, trusting that his best friend would come back to him quickly.  
  
He pulled away, as Rodney jumped onto the bed and undid his pants. His first task was to make sure that the door was locked, and once satisfied of this, he took off his lab coat and placed it over a nearby chair. He then went into the room's stock and found a bottle of lubricant. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he poured a generous amount of the lube into it and placed the bottle back into the cupboard.  
  
Climbing onto the bed wasn't entirely an easy task, as there wasn't much room left, even with Rodney down on his side. He somehow managed to do so, maneuvering himself to lean on his left arm, hovering over the man beneath him. He lowered his head, capturing the mouth of the much impatient man, while he placed the lube soaked cloth over Rodney's swollen member. The cool liquid made Rodney's breath hitch, but it didn't diminish his fiery need. Carson wrapped his hand around the cloth encased, sensitized, heated flesh, and quickly set a pace that didn't leave room for teasing.  
  
Rodney's fingers gripped tightly over Carson's biceps, his moans and whimpers nearly lost within the renewed duel of their lips and tongues. And it wasn't long before Rodney gasped and jerked with each powerful spasm that coursed through his body.

III

"Any idea what that was all about?"  
  
"I wish I knew." Rodney said, as he seemingly found his ability to speak once more. They laid side by side, their arms casually wrapped over each other. "I was working on an analysis, and then Major Sheppard came in and... awh, crap!"  
  
"What is it?" They both sat up, and Rodney jumped down to adjust his clothing.  
  
"That ten thousand year old stick."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Rodney really could be confusing at the best of times.  
  
"Major Sheppard and his stick! He brought one of those Atlantian plants into my office, asking why it hadn't decomposed, like I should know the decay rate of an alien plant. An-and there was this sticky stuff on it, a sap of some kind. That must have been it."  
  
"The sap?" A sap made Rodney uncontrollably horny?  
  
"Yes!" Rodney exclaimed with his arms opened wide. He quickly calmed down though, "I guess it doesn't really matter right now. I'll talk to Narayan tomorrow about it. I really have to get that report finished tonight."  
  
Carson reached for his arm, "Wait a second, Rodney." Since Rodney didn't move away, he pulled him closer. "I just wanted... Listen." He needed his friend to know, "I'm here for you, okay?"  
  
It took Rodney a moment to understand, but when he did he nodded, "Sure." Together, they closed the small gap and kissed each other, unhurriedly. The need was gone for now, but this new intimacy held a contentment that warmed them both.  
  
"Me too," Rodney said as he pulled away and left.  
  
As Carson sat there, looking at the soiled cloth in his hand, he mused at how lonely he had been feeling until Rodney barged into his domain. He then chuckled at the idea of eventually bringing home their 'better than Viagra' discovery. He wondered exactly how Rodney was going to explain this discovery. 


	2. part II Sheppard

Title: That Ten Thousand Year Old Stick, pt2  
Author: Artifuss  
Date: October 11, 2004  
Rating: NC17 (just to be on the safe side)  
Pairings: none, pre-something  
Category: Area52 Challenge #188, Angst, probably AU (cough okay moreso AU)  
Season/Episode: Season 1, sometime between Suspicion and Poisoning The Well.  
Spoilers: Hide and Seek, Suspicion, Poisoning the Well  
Warnings: Needs beta  
Summary: When majors get curious anything can happen.  
Notes: Part1 was first intended to be sometime after Hide and Seek. It's developed to be between Suspicion and PtW, because a certain character has popped up into part2. And this entry is set during the same time as part1.  
Disclaimer: Again, not mine, just sharing an imagined scenario with like-minded people.

* * *

The day was pretty much uneventful, as had been yesterday, and the day before that. With Aiden grounded for another two more days, Rodney had requested that they all stay on this side of the 'gate so that he could get some back-logged work finished. Not that he minded the pseudo-vacation, but he was getting just a bit bored.  
  
It was still rather early, but he figured that it was probably for the best if he just went to bed, since everyone else was either too busy to play or were already asleep themselves.  
  
"Awh, gross!" Damn it. Something had found its way around the calf area of his right pant leg, and it was sticky. "What the heck is this stuff?" he wondered aloud, while tossing his garments in the laundry bag and making his way to the sink. It took a while before he was thoroughly satisfied that not a trace of whatever it was could be felt on his hand. And after finishing up his nightly regimen, John headed off for bed, anticipating nightly thoughts on wraith killing, or maybe even home.  
  
Toss.  
  
He went to bed four hours ago. Granted he wasn't exhausted at the time, but he had been confident that sleep would have claimed him eventually.  
  
Turn.  
  
Eventually should have happened already. John lifted his upper body to punch his pillow a few times. As he was having difficulty getting comfortable.  
  
Toss. Suck in breath. Holy...  
  
There was a reason for his being uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with his pillow, but everything to do with his head. Not the one attached to his neck though. Looking down, in the barely lit room, John could still see the well shaped tent, indicating how very turned on he was.  
  
His mind on the other hand was screaming at him on how turned on he shouldn't be. Not with the thoughts he was currently running.  
  
Sure, Wraith baiting was fun, but not _that_ much fun. And Steve just didn't do it for him.  
As Wraith went, he was sure that Steve was one of the more good-looking specimens of his species, possibly even GQ standard. But that shade of blue just didn't do anything for him.  
  
Turn. Groan in frustration.  
  
One thing for sure was that his 'not little at all' problem wasn't going away without any help. He made his way out of bed and headed for his quarter's facilities.  
  
The race that made the Stargate also knew a thing or two about plumbing. Or maybe plumbing was a required skill in 'gate building. Whatever the case was, they knew how to make an efficient water system with instant hot water. A luxury he didn't have while living on Earth. After setting the temperature to 'almost hot enough to rip your skin off', he faced the cascading water with his eyes closed and his head tilted back. Blindly grabbing the conditioner bottle, John squirted a large amount in his hand. Up until now, he was cautious of rationing all of his personal products. But this time, he really didn't care even if he was using the last drop.  
  
Bringing his left forearm up, and resting it against the wall in front of him, the rest of his body followed to lean forward with the added support. His forehead nestled into the crook of his arm, as his conditioner-filled hand made its way down towards his insistent erection.  
  
His mind went to unforgiving places as he caressed his shaft, advancing further down to give equal attention to the sack beneath. He bit his lip as a desperate moan surfaced, his body urgently needing release. John grunted, squeezed his eyes shut, and balled his left hand into a tight fist. His right hand tightened around his straining cock, as his imagination escaped reality freely.  
  
He bit down on his lip all the more harder, surprised that he hadn't drawn blood, knowing that he was about to cross the finish line. "Ah!" Despite all attempts he couldn't help but voice his release.  
In one final stroke, his eyes flew open, hoping that would stop him from picturing the unattainable as his orgasm fervently plastered the shower wall. But it didn't work. Even with his eyes wide open, his mind still played out what he wanted as he came. What he needed.  
  
He slid down onto his knees, his erection sitting at half mast, the water cleaning the mixture away from his fingers and palm.  
  
At home, he didn't care much of what had turned him on late at night, but in Atlantis, his thoughts were dangerous.


End file.
